


The Other Side

by PFDiva



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Light Bondage, M/M, Psionics, Unredeemable fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-20
Updated: 2013-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-29 23:54:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/692982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PFDiva/pseuds/PFDiva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Inspired by <a href="http://syblatortue.tumblr.com/post/43264179772/taking-a-break-from-all-this-opstuck-to-fill-this">this gorgeous piece of work.</a></p>
    </blockquote>





	The Other Side

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this gorgeous piece of work.](http://syblatortue.tumblr.com/post/43264179772/taking-a-break-from-all-this-opstuck-to-fill-this)

It's like a constant, low-level buzz, except that buzz is always the sound of people you know and people you don't screaming and crying and falling and dying, and if you pay attention too hard, it can wreck you, and if it's too loud, it can wreck you, and if you're awake, it can wreck you, and you are, indeed, quite wrecked.

You don't look it when you show up at your matesprit's door, a bitter smile on your face, and some sharp words in your mouth about whatever's happened to his computer this time.  (You know exactly what's happened to his computer, because you did it so that he would invite you over.)

He stumbles over himself, sweating a little at your harsh words and flushed a faint, lovely blue that you pretend not to notice, because you aren't supposed to be here for that.

You not-so-patiently wait as he summons his lusus, offers you milk and refreshments, tapping your feet and huffing irritably at them both until they leave you be.

You tap at his computer, making vague noises about why is his computer in this condition and dear god, what did he do, and he eventually stops hovering, reassured by your sniping.

The sounds of his tools working and his distracted muttering are reassuring to you.  They don't drown out the voices, but whenever you're near him, those voices seem quieter.  You're not sure why.

It takes a very short period of time to repair the damage to Equius's computer, and you swivel in your chair for a look at him.

He's at one of his work tables, doing something inscrutable with a piece of machinery you would know nothing about, even if his body WASN'T in your way.  It's a nice body.

Equius is broad-shouldered and heavily-muscled.  He weighs a fucking ton, but he hasn't got an ounce of fat on him.  It makes him a bad pillow, unlike your out-of-shape, scrawny self.

Even though you burn through calories at an obscene rate, due to your psionics, and your ribs are visible through your skin, Equius calls you soft, says he loves the way you feel under his hands.

And you love to be under his hands.  He's so afraid to touch you, so afraid of hurting you, breaking you, but you've seen him handle things that even you would break out of careless misunderstanding.  But he can not only handle them, he can solder them, tie wires to them, do all sorts of things you don't understand.

You know he can be gentle, and he IS.

In spite of his temper, and the fact that he breaks things to soothe himself, the most frightening thing about Equius is his moirail.  Nepeta, like Equius, is a sweetheart, and she very sweetly informed you that she would use your entrails as paintbrushes if you weren't gentle with her Equius.

Thinking of Nepeta focuses your attention on her future screams of death.  She calls for Equius, of course, and he calls for noone, merely making a pained gurgling that you'd rather not think about, but now you're thinking about gurgling, and Vriska gurgles as well, so do Feferi and Eridan, but Kanaya is strangely quiet when she dies, and if it was only the deaths of the people you knew, life would be so much easier, and you are already on your feet before you know what you're doing.

Equius gasps softly, tensing anxiously when you press your face between his shoulderblades, curling your fingers into the back of his shirt, your eyes sparking irregularly.  He smells like machine oil and musk, and his shirt grows damp as you stand there, the musky smell intensifying.  You love the way he smells.  You complain about his sweating on a regular basis, but only because it makes you want to lick him, taste his skin, his mouth, his bulge, his nook.

"I am tho flushed for you, I'm gonna be thick."

You feels his muscles relax under your forehead, and he slowly begins to move again.  You do this a lot more than you'd like to admit, because it helps the voices.  They don't go away, per se, but they're more muffled, like through something thick and soft.

You feel his muscles moving as he does whatever he's doing, and gradually, the sparking dies down, allowing you to relax more, as well.  Soon, you are moving with Equius as he works, and that is reassuring as well.

"Your thtupid computer'th fixed," you mumble into his back.

"Ah, thank you."

"Whatever.  You're welcome."

"Will you be staying the day?"

"I didn't bring extra clotheth, tho probably not."

"You could wear mine."

"No way."

"I am merely concerned that some issue will arise, and I shall be forced to contact you again to repair my computer.  It IS a very long trip."

Does he know something?

You lift your face from his back and lean around for a look at his face.

His bottom lip has been caught between jagged teeth, and he's got this look on his face like he's said something his thinks is "100d" or "inappropriate."

"You knew I did that on purpothe, didn't you?"

The shifty look on his face is answer enough.  He can keep a secret decently well when it's digital, but he's a shit liar in person.

"Why didn't you thay anything?"

"I....wanted you to come over?"

You can't help but laugh.  You and Equius are so bad at this communication thing, it's a wonder you've together this survived this long.

"What a dork."

He smiles down at you, lopsided and awkward, but gentle and kind.

Your bloodpusher is going to fly out of your chest.

A cuff of blue circles his left wrist, and one of red on the right, forcing him to put down the piece of machinery before pulling his hands behind his back.  His lips part ever-so-slightly, and you lean up to suck the lower one between your own.

"You make me tho thick, you really do," you gently inform him.  He smiles.

"I am very flushed for you as well."


End file.
